It's a Real Circus
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, days 802-807: With a new recruit to their company, New Directions puts on their next Murder Mystery.
1. The Case of the Big Top

_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 38th cycle. Now cycle 39!_

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><p><em><strong>INTRODUCING "CHEAT SHEET" - <strong>If you want to know ahead of time when a certain series will be updated next, just reassemble the link below and check out the list, save it, print it, bookmark it, whatever you need!  
>Go to: <span>gleekathon [dot] tumblr [dot] com [slash] cheatsheet<span>_

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><p><strong>"It's a Real Circus"<br>Kurt & Co, Sam**

**1. The Case of the Big Top**

After the last time, which had served as a going away party for Matt, Kurt hadn't gotten around to planning another of his murder mysteries throughout the summer and the start of the new school year. But then there were circumstances, the kind that might make a guy start plotting "murder…" Halloween was coming, and they had a new guy… There would still be eleven of them, with Puck in juvie, but they'd manage fine. If anything, this would distract him from all this business with Karofsky…

He'd had a few unused games in mind, and he chose one that might best suit the circumstances. It could get tricky, what with the various skills to portray or at least look like they could portray. It started with a list of names and a list of roles. Slowly but surely lines were drawn from one column to the other, until finally he had his cast list. So envelopes were prepared, and the next day he would make his rounds.

The first he ran into were Mike and Tina, perpetually near one another these days. "Hey, can we talk?" he asked.

"You're doing another murder mystery?" Tina beamed, seeing the envelopes. Kurt pulled out two envelopes.

"I'll take that as your saying you're in?" he asked and got two nods. "Right, so it's murder under the Big Top. Mike, you're playing Fitz the contortionist," he gave the envelope.

"Cool, I can do that," Mike smiled. Even as Kurt was turning to Tina, the future contortionist was twisting his arms, testing his bounds.

"What about me?" Tina was looking at her boyfriend as she spoke, distracted.

"Eyes here," Kurt drew her focus. "You're one half of a pair of clowns and your name is Cherub." Tina smiled, like she was already thinking about what her costume would look like. When Kurt left them, she was telling Mike about needing to find wings.

The next people he found were Finn and Rachel, and he didn't need much time to figure out, like in times past, that the word had already begun to travel. Rachel tapped at Finn's arm and grabbed it to drag him along. "So who are we playing this time? Are we a couple? Am I dying? Is he dying?" her questions stepped on one another as they were spoken.

"Okay, take a breath," Kurt instructed. "Neither of you is dying… Don't give me that look," he held his finger up when Rachel came to speak. "You're one of two mimes, part of a duo called Light and Shadow, you're Light." Like Tina before, this bit of information was enough to get her mind to start turning; they'd lost her. Kurt handed both envelopes to Finn, deciding there was no point interrupting. "So you'll be Luigi, the sword swallower."

"I…" Finn's eyebrows raised, trying to imagine this. "I'm not actually going to have to…"

"I wouldn't recommend it, no," Kurt shook his head cautiously. "Also, props? Plastic, not the real deal."

"Got it," Finn nodded slowly. Just as he was moving away from the pair, Kurt felt his phone vibrate. It was a message – a summons, really – for him to meet Santana and Brittany at their lockers. Before he could get to them though, he was waved over by Artie and Mercedes.

"So I guess you heard," he reached for the two envelopes with their names, almost dropping the stack. "Here," he gave Mercedes hers. "You'll be Swift, the knife thrower. Fake knives," he pointed.

"Definitely."

"And Artie, you're Kissinger, the… former… unicyclist," he looked down.

"Fantastic," Artie bowed his head. "I…"

"Hey, don't you check your messages?" The three looked up to find they were being approached by Santana, Brittany following behind.

"I'll see you later," Kurt nodded to Artie and Mercedes before moving off to meet the two Cheerios.

"Hey, Kurt, am I dying again?" Brittany asked, sounding much more optimistic about the possibility than she used to. She'd embraced the role now, the fact that her characters always died in these dinners having become more tradition than coincidence.

"As always," Kurt confirmed. Santana patted the blonde's arm in something like comfort, but Brittany was smiling. "The two of you are going to be a trapeze act." Brittany's smile increased, looking to Santana. "Maribelle, and Serafina," he held out the envelopes to Santana and Brittany respectively.

"I didn't kill her, did I?" Santana asked.

"You'll have to wait until Saturday," Kurt shook his head, getting a glare from Santana.

"Who are you playing?" Brittany asked.

"I'll be Oswald, the ring leader," his head bowed.

"Figures," Santana smirked. She looked to the two envelopes left in his hand. "Going to try and recruit the new guy?" she guessed. "Tell you that guy's got some lips on him…"

"Let's try not to scare him away, alright? We're not exactly in a guys surplus," Kurt insisted.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Santana shrugged. "Come on, Britt," she started off. Brittany gave a silent wave to Kurt before following.

He looked to the two envelopes in his hands. One was for Quinn, and the other was for Sam. He knew Quinn wouldn't be a problem. She was turning out to be a star player, with a sometimes worrisome knack for playing the… off-kilter set of characters. But then there was Sam. Kurt couldn't imagine jumping into their group, already together for a year, was the easiest thing, especially since he wasn't just new to the club but new to Lima and McKinley as a whole. It could be that this would be too soon, or it could be just what he would need to make him feel welcomed and made part of their unit.

He found Quinn first, and his course of action became clear. As much as he'd thought he had it all figured out when it came to Sam Evans, he knew if there was one person to use as bait to get him into this dinner it wasn't going to be Kurt himself, it would be the blonde in the Cheerios uniform. "Good morning," he fell in step with her.

"Wow, subtlety is not your thing, is it?" she frowned and smirked.

"Very rarely," he didn't skip a beat. "I assume you already know why I'm here."

"I do," she nodded. "So who am I playing?"

"A mime," Kurt revealed. "One half of Light & Shadow. You play Shadow," he handed her envelope over. She looked at it with a nod to herself. "Listen if you're not busy, I could use your help with something." Quinn looked at him. "I've got one more player to inform," he waved the final envelope. "I think it might be… easier, if I had a familiar face nearby."

"What, for Sam?" she guessed, and Kurt nodded. She seemed to hesitate.

"Please, Quinn, we need him." She looked back to him.

"Fine, fine, alright," she agreed. So she followed him and they found Sam coming out of class. "You do the talking," Quinn insisted.

"Of course I do," he shook his head, like he would have had it any other way. "Sam, hello," they stepped up to him. When he looked up, he first saw Kurt, surprised by his being there, but then he saw Quinn and everything else went out of his mind except her… until Kurt brought him back to attention. "So the reason I'm here right now is to invite you to take part in something of a Glee Club special event."

"Okay?" he asked, unsure where this was going.

"Well, every so often at my house we have what are called murder mystery dinners. Everyone comes over, we dress up and we play characters, then someone is "killed,"" he air-quoted, and we try to figure out who did it. And then at some point we do have dinner. Anyway I understand you're still very new to us, but we would love it if you would take part in this latest dinner, this weekend, right here in the choir room. We used to have it at my house, but with more people it just became easier to do it elsewhere, and so…" he gestured around to indicate 'now we do it here.' "So what do you think? Interested?"

"I… sure," Sam hesitated, but then smiled and nodded. "I guess I can try."

"Good, excellent. Here's the information about your character. You play Chuckles, one of two clowns. If any of this is giving you trouble, I'm sure the others will be… more than happy to help you," he made a pointed turn toward Quinn, who startled and put on a smile for them. "See?"

"That'd be great," Sam nodded, smiling back.

"Excellent, well then I'll leave you two kids to it, and I'll see you on Saturday."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	2. Settle Into the Show

_A/N: On to chapter 2! :)_

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><p><strong>"It's a Real Circus"<strong>

**2. Settle Into the Show**

It had taken reminding all necessary parties about their agreement, as it had been a while since the last time they'd done one of these dinners, but finally they were granted access to the choir room and some of the facilities of McKinley as the setting to this most recent murder mystery. Where last time was about giving Matt a great send off, this time around it would be the opposite: they were taking in someone new. A hello was just as important as a goodbye.

"So what are we having? Corn dogs and cotton candy?" Mercedes joked as she walked in with him, having been recruited as his assistant to set everything up.

"I did consider it, but that's just not…" he shook his head. "Then I thought maybe I could go the other way, reimagine the 'classics,' but after a handful of failed attempts and two near misses on kitchen fires, I decided the actual dinner component would be out of character. Besides, if we're supposed to get to know our new member then what better way than with this dinner?" Kurt shrugged.

"Right," she nodded as they reached the home economics kitchen and began setting up. Before long the pre-prepared items were taken care of, and the rest was in the process. Kurt looked to the clock.

"They should be starting to arrive soon," he informed her.

Rachel had soon figured out Quinn was to be her 'partner in mime,' and the second half of 'Light and Shadow.' As such, she had contacted Quinn so that their costumes could reflect that connection. The concept was settled easily enough, and when the two girls arrived at McKinley, coincidentally around the same time, they were pleased with the results. As Light, Rachel donned a wig of white hair pulled into a bun on top of her head, her face made paler with makeup, and her dress in absolute white, paired to white ballet slippers, the lot given a bit of shine with appropriate amounts of sparkles. For Shadow, Quinn had followed much of the same construct: a wig of black hair, in her case made into a braid that came over her shoulder. Her eyes were made up with black and purples, streaking out, her lips a striking black, much like the shorts and suspenders she wore over a striped t-shirt of two shades of purple, and the simple flat shoes that completed her outfit. "Wow…" was the first thing Rachel managed to say.

"Like yours too," Quinn smiled, which was odd from beneath her Shadow persona.

A moment later Finn entered, having been Rachel's ride to the dinner, and he found the two of them side by side, the full effect of each girl's costumes brought to completion. They looked to him, and Quinn was the one to show surprise, as Rachel had already been able to see: it was her handiwork. As Luigi the sword swallower, the prominent feature in his costume was not so much the plastic sword as it was the way his hair had been slicked back. Quinn looked to be doing everything she could not to start laughing at how odd he looked, and that was just the hair. The pants were black, and the top consisted of a black sleeveless vest that buttoned up to his neck. And if that wasn't enough…

"Is that… eyeliner?" Quinn squinted, and Finn looked to Rachel in a way that said 'See I told you so.' "You just hope Puck never finds out about this or he'll never let you hear the end of it," she teased playfully. Finn had no reply, probably because she was absolutely right. "You two go, I need to wait on Sam," she explained, so they went on their way.

As they reached the kitchen, Kurt put them on task with continuing preparations for a few minutes, giving him and Mercedes the chance to go ahead and change into costumes. They would return, ready for play. Kurt, as Oswald the ring leader, had not shunned tradition, appearing in a tailcoat and top hat, white gloves and walking stick… the impressive side was all in his execution of it. As for Mercedes' costume for Swift the knife thrower, the key word here was to display her artillery, taking a few cues from the time they had done their assassins game. Nothing from her clothes to her hair was allowed to dangle or distract her from her skill or risk throwing her off.

Back at the front, Quinn looked up at the sound of the door, but it wasn't Sam. Instead in walked Cherub the clown and Fitz the contortionist. Mike's costume, like so many of them that night, would show a direct correlation to their respective skills and ensuring that they could be performed – even if they wouldn't necessarily attempt them in any way. In Mike's case there were a few more chances that he might at least manage some part of what his character entailed, but still the point was that his costume was all about being able to twist about and so was not meant to get in his way. As for Cherub, some of Tina's costume seemed to have been recycled from her Gaga costume. Silvery dress, a few plastic bubbles, gossamer wings… and a red nose. Her hair had been curled into ringlets, her usual colorful streaks having been made to match her clothes. They greeted each other and then the pair went on their way. Quinn still waited.

The next to arrive was Artie. It was easy to tell his costume had been harder to conceptualize. Kissinger had once been a unicyclist, but he wasn't anymore, so he was 'inactive' in the circus and its act. So his clothes were regular, though he still displayed a quirkiness that seemed to fit the spirit of the game. He made himself scarce before long, just as the next players arrived, still not Sam. Santana and Brittany, like she had with Rachel, showed that their characters belonged as a pair. In their case this was shown by the identicalness of their costumes. The skirt could almost have been their Cheerio skirt, though it was thinner, longer, slit on the side, which Quinn imagined meant it was to be taken off before they 'took to the trapeze.' Under this it seemed they wore unitards. Once they had moved from outside to inside the school, they took off their shoes, remaining barefoot. Their hair was slickly pulled back, the makeup dramatic and sealed with red lips to match their nails. They went on their way as well, and Quinn looked to the door. Only one player missing now… had he changed his mind, or…

The first thing she heard was… squeaking… She looked up and in walked Chuckles the clown… Quinn couldn't keep from 'chuckling at Chuckles,' so Sam took it as a good sign. "Do I look the part?" he asked. She stood, took a step or two toward him. Somewhere beneath the wig and the makeup, she couldn't quite see the smile he got at having her approach.

"Definitely," she promised, looking like she wanted to reach up and squeeze his red nose to see if it would honk. "Are you ready for this?"

"Well, I was nervous," he admitted. "And then when I told my little brother and sister about it they insisted I do it because they love clowns. I think I might have found my Halloween costume to take them trick-or-treating." He took a beat, then tempted… "You know, I could always use a hand to take them around, someone who knows Lima better than we do and won't get us lost…"

"I could be convinced," she gave a smirk. "Are you clear on the rules for tonight though?"

"Pretty sure, yeah. If I'm supposed to get killed, Kurt or someone else will let me know, then I do it, and then I go change and come back as someone else."

"That's right," she nodded. "So when we walk through the door to the choir room, we become our characters. If I don't talk to you, it's not ignoring you, alright?"

"Got it."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	3. Death Defying

_A/N: To make it easier to keep track of things, as usual, the character listings:_

_Oswald the Ringleader: Kurt_  
><em>Serafina the Trapeze Artist: Brittany<em>  
><em>Maribelle the Trapeze Artist: Santana<em>  
><em>Kissinger the (Former) Unicyclist: Artie<em>  
><em>Swift the Knife Thrower: Mercedes<em>  
><em>Light the Mime: Rachel<em>  
><em>Shadow the Mime: Quinn<em>  
><em>Fitz the Contortionist: Mike<em>  
><em>Chuckles the Clown: Sam<em>  
><em>Cherub the Clown: Tina<em>  
><em>Luigi the Sword Swallower: Finn<em>

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><p><strong>"It's a Real Circus"<strong>

**3. Death Defying**

Quinn had led Sam to just outside the choir room, where the others were gathered, waiting, looking at one another's costumes… "Please?" Santana was all but holding her hands pressed together, begging at Finn, who was looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there, while Rachel stood in between them.

"Leave him alone, okay?"

"I just want one picture. Consider it a token of appreciation, the fact that your image will be there to… pick me up when I'm down, with a good solid laugh," Santana gestured, smirking.

"Oh, good, you're here," Kurt sounded utterly relieved when he spotted Quinn and Sam, taking away from the mayhem that could have ensued. "If I can have everyone's attention," he waved his hat over his head and the others looked to him. "All of you know how this works already, but as a refresher to you and as information for our newcomer. From the moment we walk through this door, we are no longer ourselves. We become our characters, and so long as we are in that room, that's how it's going to be. If your character dies, and by now you should already know this to be the case, you will exit and find your new character information as well as new costumes and accessories in that classroom there. Dinner will be served halfway through, in the next room over. It's not going to be part of the game, so that means out of character. When the game is done, the lights will be flashed. If at any time the game needs to be paused, use the code phrase 'I think I hear thunder.' As you'll have read in your information, the troupe has just arrived in a new city, setting up for the next few weeks of performances, and they're coming off from the first of those."

"Is this speech ending anytime soon?" Artie raised his hand. Kurt looked to him, keeping his leading smile but still showing he'd been distracted and forgot what he was going to say next.

"Enter as you will," he indicated the room, putting his hat back on, tugging at the edges of his gloves. "Pass through the door and you are in play," he took the initiative and walked in. The others all looked back to Sam, giving him an encouraging nod before they started entering the room.

"You'll do great," Quinn promised before joining Rachel so they could enter together, Light and Shadow keeping a silent presence. Brittany and Santana's trapeze artists entered together as well, and Sam soon came face to face with the second clown, Tina/Cherub.

"Ready?" she asked, and he adjusted his nose.

"As I'll ever be."

"Don't worry about it, it's actually really fun," she told him. "You're one of us now." That seemed to be all that was needed. They walked into the room, and as Cherub flitted about like she was determined she could fly and flutter away, Chuckles took a quick look at his surroundings, at everyone who was also getting into character, and he did the same. He let the magnitude of his shoes, his outfit, everything, take him over and guide his movements.

"Great night, everyone, great night," Oswald complimented them as they went by. They were still the personas they presented to their gathered audiences, but once the show was over and done with they could dial it back to some degree or another… in some cases for the better, and in some others…

"You nearly dropped me… again!" Maribelle gave Serafina a – light – shove, which still caught the girl by surprise as she spun around to look at her partner, eyes searching hers. The other girl's response was so very minimal, but the message came across with a brief flare of understanding, and then her eyes focused into something like annoyance.

"What, it's not my fault you put on a few," her voice was sweet but it had bite. Maribelle's mouth went wide, and she looked like the one who was about to do some biting.

"That's it, Oswald, I tried with her, but you need to do something or I quit. I'm sure there are plenty of others out there who are just dying to have Maribelle as their headlining act!" she stomped off.

"They'll need a big tent for that ass!" Serafina called after her. The others had stopped where they were and followed the argument from left to right, a few of them right on the edge of or already in the process of bursting out laughing, though one snapping glare from Maribelle and they melted away.

"Another night, another fight," Chuckles was the only one who still seemed to find it funny, with his laughing sort of voice. Cherub at his side just shook her head, revealing the bells on her earrings were in fact functional. Light and Shadow came up to him as well, silent not out of fear of retribution, like Cherub, but by their own design as mimes. The way they expressed it varied by nature of their characters, one angelic, the other less so, did differ, but the message was the same: Lay off Maribelle, or it will end badly, for him and others.

"If we're to air grievances, I've got something to s…" Kissinger began, but was immediately cut off by the knife thrower marching toward the sword swallower.

"I've got a bone to pick with you, too, and I'm very tempted right now to pick one from you," she brandished a pair of – fake – knives. "Fire and Steel is mine, find your own thing."

"Alright!" Oswald's voice carried over the room, demanding their silence, which he got after Fitz held Maribelle back from launching at Serafina, after the blonde puffed her cheeks at her partner. "This is not a time for petty debacles, no, my friends, it is not. Can anyone tell me what tonight is?" he worked his troupe like he worked his crowds. Light's hand went in the air. "Yes?" With great flourish, the girl mimed what they saw to mean 'party, celebration, festivity.' "Right you are! Now, off you go," his shoulders slumped a bit, pulling a flash from a hidden pocket in his suit.

So the group spread out. Some remained clustered, talking, arguing… Maribelle was being pulled back from her rage by her fiancé, Fitz, while Serafina chased after Cherub and her bells. Swift sat sharpening her knives, all the while giving Luigi the stink eye. Having been without much of a reaction at her previous jab, here he looked almost cocky, sitting with his sword across his knees. Then there was Light, silently applauding Chuckles the Clown as he produced three balls from his pockets – one ball per pocket – and started juggling them.

She came out of nowhere. They hadn't seen or been aware of anything being done to her, in any sense of the word. All they saw was her stumbling forward, their silent dark princess, clutching her neck. Light turned and saw her when Chuckles dropped the balls and pointed. They couldn't see yet, the first of them to see was Serafina. She screamed.

Shadow fell to her knees, then her side, and finally her back, so all could see that somewhere under her fingers there was blood, her blood, coming from her throat.

"Out of the way!" Swift cut past the group that had begun to crowd around the downed performer. All of them listened except Light, who wouldn't leave Shadow's side. "Let me look, let me look," Swift told Shadow, but she was already too far gone. Her eyes were going to a faraway place, somewhere they couldn't bring her back from. Still the last thing she did was to clasp Light's hand, one last farewell before the strength left her and her arm fell limp. Her other hand fell away as well, revealing the cause of her death, a jagged cut snaking across her throat. Everyone was silent now, and for once the one sound that could be heard was the sobs of the surviving mime. "I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do," Swift eventually spoke up, looking to the girl whose makeup left streaks across her face, flesh tones instead of white powder. They knew she wouldn't speak, even now. If there was one way she could think of, to honor the memory of dearest Shadow, it was to uphold what they stood for.

But still for all of them it was a shock to the system. One of their own was dead, and in all likelihood one of them had done it. "Someone take her out of here," Oswald pointed to the body. "We need to resolve this quick… it's bad for business."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	4. Lights Up

_A/N: Character update! Quinn has a new character, she is now Sparks..._

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><p><strong>"It's a Real Circus"<strong>

**4. Lights Up**

Fitz and Luigi stood on either side of Shadow's body, carefully picking her up. Light joined the effort, supporting the head as they carried Shadow out of the room, through the hall and into the neighboring classroom. "Alright, easy," Mike guided the others as they put Quinn down. She didn't open her eyes until she was on the ground, the better not to startle them into dropping her. She smirked.

"So, how'd I do?" she asked as she sat up.

"It was amazing… Scary, but amazing," Rachel shook her head. "Your…" she pointed, and Quinn peeled off the 'cut' from her throat like it was a Band-Aid.

"I wasn't sure if it would work… Give it a little pressure and then it starts… spewing… Just keep pressing and more of it comes out."

"That is so cool…" Finn blinked, reaching to take it from her. Mike offered his hand and Quinn took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

"I should start changing," she pulled the wig off her head, her golden hair cascading out, clashing with the rest of the image. "The make-up alone is going to be a nightmare," she moved to the supplies left at her disposal, including the mirror she now stared into as she worked to remove the black lipstick.

"So you knew you were dying?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, Kurt said something about… matching 'the talent' with 'the skills,'" Quinn explained, wiping at her lips; the lipstick was giving a tough fight. "Came back and gave me a second envelope the next day, told me to get the costume to him by yesterday." Rachel saw the bag hanging from a hanger, had to peak in. When she did, she almost immediately connected what she saw with what she'd read in her envelope.

"You're doing Sparks, aren't you…"

"Alright, everybody out, I need to change," Quinn's response was to point to the door, and the boys were quick to make their exit. Rachel hesitated, her loyalty to her 'partner in mime' giving her two reasons to stay: to help, and to play to the grief of her character.

"Need a hand?" she pointed to the makeup.

"I think I can handle it," Quinn promised.

"Really, because you look like you're going to rip your lips open right now," Rachel indicated.

"I didn't come in here expecting it to be easy to get off. Right now I'm just trying to get out what I can. Besides, the new lipstick isn't that much better, but it should cover it right up." Rachel simply nodded to herself. "Good job on the tears, by the way. Not even surprised you can cry on cue," Quinn threw a smirk back and Rachel chuckled.

"Well, it's not… that easy," she insisted, shrugging it off.

"Right," Quinn nodded.

"Guess I should head back there then," Rachel moved to the door.

"Thanks," Quinn still felt she had to say. Rachel looked back to her with a quiet nod: sure thing. Once she was gone, Quinn got back to scrubbing. Once she'd gotten about as far as she could hope to with her lips, she got to the rest of her face, which was much easier by comparison. Now she had to get herself from the darkened Shadow to the fiery Sparks, fire eater, fire breather, fire dancer… Girl loved her flame…

Back in the other room, Fitz and Luigi, and later Light, had rejoined the group to find it in various stages of breaking down… Some were sitting in still shocked silence, others found the confusion and the grief were outstanding fuels to existing flames, with arguments erupting. This all came to a standstill when the new arrival came through the door. Of course she had 'been there since the beginning,' as far as anyone knew, but briefly it did have to register that she was new. Sparks and her golden hair curving around her face… The sides were pulled back, held with chopsticks that almost seemed like torches ready to be ignited. The silken dress was sleek, the shoes as well… The girl was no girl: she was a lady.

"Now I know this is a very tragic time for our family," she began, her voice like a licking flame. "We've lost one of our own. But what I knew of Shadow, and let's face it, she was not the most talkative of people, she would not want us to fall apart this way." There was a jingle they knew to be Cherub nodding, even without looking. Light, who now sat perched on a chair in the corner, crossed her arms before herself, silently showing her disapproval of this reasoning. The ringleader was much more willing to accept it though.

"Good on you, Sparks," he slurred, raising his flask to her. She gave a smile and bow of her head. "Let's just get everyone back in here so we can…"

There was a scream in the distance, the same as they'd heard before, and those who were still in the room looked around, on high alert. Light scampered up to hang on to Oswald for support as she quaked like a leaf, still fragile from losing Shadow. And then… a bloody hand grasped on the side of the doorway. There was a gasp, and then in he pulled himself, regaining his feet momentarily but already weakening it was only a matter of time before he fell. As he hung on to his neck, they knew the same fate had befallen him as had Shadow. This was the first time Cherub spoke.

"Chuckles!" she ran to him, skidding to her knees. His eyes, swimming with blood loss, still managed to lock on to her, and with his free hand, the one he'd pulled himself with before, he started wildly pointing backward, to where he'd come from. "Who did this to you?" she begged, but he just kept pointing, with what strength he still had. "Are they back there?" It was hard to tell, but it looked like he was shaking his head – this wasn't what he was pointing for. "What…"

There was a whimper, a silenced struggle, and they looked back to see what Chuckles had been pointing to. Serafina wouldn't stumble, wouldn't lose her footing, because already she had lost that battle… but she could still drag herself, with such great effort all things considered, and so she did. And when she had gotten herself through the door, her hand stretched out, begging for help. The other hand, like the others before, was wrapped tightly at her neck, but there was something different here, which they saw when Fitz and Luigi rushed to pull her in… a trail of blood left behind. When they turned her on to her back, they saw where it came from. Before or after her throat had been cut, they didn't know, but she had been stabbed in the stomach, her unitard ripped to reveal a second gash.

"Swift, help her!" Maribelle marched over to the blonde.

"And Chuckles, too!" Cherub begged.

"I'm only one person," Swift stepped up. "Keep pressure on him, she's worse off," she instructed Cherub, who frowned but did as told, covering Chuckles' hand at his throat.

"You were saying?" Kissinger looked to Sparks, who just stared in shock at the two on the ground, one being safeguarded by the winged clown, the other being looked at by the knife thrower.

"Didn't help yourself by dragging yourself this way," Swift looked to Serafina, who looked like she was trying to speak. "Stay quiet, you'll only make things worse."

"What if she's trying to tell you who did this to her, Swiss Army," Maribelle frowned.

"I thought you hated her," Swift glared back.

"We may have our differences. Doesn't mean I want her to die either…"

"Swift, I think he's going!" Cherub startled them. They turned just in time to see Chuckles' eyes roll in the back of his head. Almost symbolically this was the time his red nose lost grip and rolled off his face and on to the ground. "No, Chuckles…" Cherub wept.

"Damn it…" Swift muttered under her breath, turned to her last remaining… Serafina's eyes were fixed, hands had lost grip… She was gone as well.

"We've lost three people now, Os," Fitz turned to the ringleader, looking very tall and angry. "You know what is really bad for business? Not having performers anymore. So either you fix this, or we walk. We're not going to stick around to get picked off one by one."

"He's right," Luigi nodded.

"I suppose he is…" Oswald looked shell-shocked. "We need to put an end to this. Just move them, and then we'll figure out what's going on." Fitz, Luigi, and Cherub moved Chuckles out, while Maribelle, Sparks, and Light took hold of Serafina. Swift, Kissinger, and Oswald followed, and as they all stood in the hall, Kurt waited until Sam and Brittany had been put down to announce. "Right, time for dinner!"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	5. No Secrets Under the Big Top

_A/N: Couple more character updates, with Sam as Jonah and Brittany as Milly!_

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><p><strong>"It's a Real Circus"<strong>

**5. No Secrets Under the Big Top**

As they all moved toward the room set to welcome the dinner portion of their evening, they couldn't help but notice the amount of fake blood now covering floors and other surfaces. "Is it wrong to want to leave that there on the off chance they'll shut down school for a couple days?" Artie asked.

"Tempting as that is, we'd get caught, and what if they sent us to jail…" Rachel shook her head, sounding on the edge of panic at that thought.

"I promised I'd get everything back in order, and if we lose this space then we'll have to start doing these out of my basement again," Kurt pointed out.

"Right, forget I said anything," Artie shrugged it off.

"Should we change into our new costumes now or after?" Sam asked, standing there with the blood still leaking out of his 'slash.'

"Do we have to? I kind of like this…" Brittany was poking at her stomach wound, watching the blood squirt out.

"If you don't mind, I would suggest you wait until after, to maintain the surprise," Kurt told them.

So everyone sat around the table while Mercedes and Tina followed Kurt to help carry plates from the home economics kitchen. All were served and incited to start eating. For most of them, eating while in crazy costumes like this had become like second nature. In Sam's case, looking at them, especially Brittany with her wounds, was almost too distracting to focus on his plate.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked him with a smirk. He looked back at her, distracted by the golden flecks in her face that brought out her eyes in a way he hadn't expected… He just about had to stick his fork in his mouth to give him an excuse for being left speechless. By the way she kept looking at him though he imagined she still expected an answer, so he nodded. She smiled. "I know, it's kind of weird, but you get used to it. That is if you intend on joining us again…" she let the statement trail off and he repeated his nod. "Good to hear," she returned the gesture.

"Sorry I had to yell at you," Santana turned to Brittany, down the table.

"Sorry I had to attack your ass," was Brittany's reply, which made Santana smirk.

"Like the earrings," Mike told Tina, who obliged with a bell-ringing shake of the head and a smile.

"I don't know about you, but I think Swift is this close to lashing out at your guy, if you know what I mean," Mercedes told Finn.

"He can take it," Finn replied confidently, which Rachel silently agreed to, sitting at his side.

"How do you keep finding these games that conveniently have a guy in a wheelchair?" Artie asked Kurt. "Not that I mind, but I feel a little typecast," he mumbled.

"How many of these have you done before?" Sam asked, hearing this, which then drew the others' attention. They counted in their heads.

"I think this is the… fifth?" Mercedes asked.

"No, sixth," Kurt shook his head. "We started off with just six of us doing it, and then every time we did a new one we got a couple more people to join in until all twelve of us were in on it."

"Then Matt moved away and there were eleven," Mike went on.

"And Puck's in juvie so that's ten," Santana followed.

"But you're here now, so… eleven," Quinn rounded off.

"First we did Lady Lark… I died in that one," Rachel beamed. Brittany raised her hand. "And Brittany, too," she amended, getting a nod from the blonde.

"Then it was Noble House… A few of us went in that one, at the hand of Ghost Brittany," Santana explained next.

"After that we did Titania, me and Brittany died," Mike added.

"And the one with the assassins, that was the first time we were all there," Kurt went on.

"Let me guess, Brittany died?" Sam asked, getting a smile from the girl in question.

"The last one we did was the one with the two gangs of brothers. I was one of their girlfriends, then I died, and then I was their mother… who had killed the girlfriend…" Brittany explained.

"And now we're here," Tina nodded. "We used to do it in Kurt's basement, but then with all of us there it would get a little crowded. Plus with Artie and the wheelchair… But now they let us use the school, so it's easier."

"It's neutral ground," Rachel summarized. "We don't really think about anything else that might be going on, most times… We just come, and we play… sometimes we kill each other," she shrugged, which got a laugh out of the others.

"Well I like it," Sam nodded.

"Good, then let's finish eating so we can get back to it," Kurt instructed.

When Sam and Brittany had finished eating, they both went to retrieve their costumes and props to start on their transformations. When some of the others had finished, they decided they should take care of the blood smears sooner rather than later. Finally though, nine of them were back in the room, so the game was called back into action, ready to welcome the others whenever they'd be ready. Kurt had already reminded them that they were immediately following Fitz' ultimatum, after which they'd carried out the bodies. With that in mind, the group returned, somber and silent.

In one way or another, they were all affected by the deaths of Shadow, Chuckles, and Serafina. Friends, partners, rivals, lovers, ex-lovers… If that wasn't enough, there was the very strong possibility of presently sitting with their killer. Now there were two more on the verge of joining their grieving party.

The first to enter they would know to be Jonah the Juggler. They could see some of his preferred items to juggle, clipped to or hanging from his belt… pins and balls and daggers… Those had gone absolutely unnoticed the moment he'd walked through the door, at least for about half of those in the room, as his costume consisted of pants, the belt with the items, and that was about it… It was hard to retain their memories of who they were for a solid minute. But then they would, which could be seen in how their faces forced themselves to appear sad again. The Juggler also showed himself saddened, having lost Shadow, his on and off girlfriend, even though everyone in the circus knew, if it were up to him, there would have never been any 'off' periods. So now he sat, alone, broken, but with a burning anger boiling underneath, waiting to know the guilty party, the better to aim that anger at someone who deserved to feel every last bit of it.

There was a whimper then, and the effect was immediate, for all of them to start looking around, expecting a new victim, only they were all present, so how… But then they understood, this was not the whimper of injury, but the cry of grief, and the one who had cried it was Jack-Jack. In walked Milly the Ventriloquist, her wooden friend cradled in her arms as he cried non-existent tears and she 'voiced' them. The two wore matching sailor suits, though hers featured a skirt instead of pants. Her hair had been pulled into a ponytail, coupled with the hat which sat perched at an angle on her head.

"Sad day, sad day," Jack-Jack spoke. Swift looked ready to bolt, but Oswald pulled her back, patting her arm. Still the knife thrower – or at least the girl beneath the knife thrower – made a pointed effort not to look anywhere that would allow the puppet into her line of sight. "Jack-Jack is going to miss his friends. Chuckles always laughed at Jack-Jack, and Miss Serafina was so very tender with Jack-Jack, and Miss Shadow… with that ass…" he bawled.

"Hey, hey, puppet boy," Sparks frowned, though there were some snickers around.

"And now Miss Cherub, and Miss Maribelle, and Miss Light, they're all alone…"

TO BE CONCLUDED (TOMORROW)


	6. The Show Must Go On

_A/N: Final chapter!_

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><p><strong>"It's a Real Circus"<strong>

**6. The Show Must Go On**

Something had happened, the moment Jack-Jack had said those words. They couldn't quite figure it out yet, but there was an inkling, so close yet so far away… Oswald stood and addressed his troupe, mustering what he could of leadership, considering he'd been drinking.

"Now I am not pointing the finger at anyone specifically, but right now we do need to address the possibility that one of us is responsible for this… terrible, terrible tragedy tonight," he sounded so little like he actually cared, but he was all they had, so they would continue to listen to him so long as he said the right words, emotion or not. "I also understand that a number of you may have issues with one another. I assure you this is not the time to try and unjustly get rid of someone here," the businessman's voice resurfaced.

"Why would anyone kill Chuckles?" Cherub just sobbed, chiming as she lowered her head. "Why would anyone kill any of them?"

"Well that's what we have to figure out, why them," Sparks shrugged at how obvious it was. "Did they have anything in common?" There was silence as everyone thought. Silence didn't change, because of the whole group standing there, it was the still silent mime who suddenly looked up. She got to her feet, looked to the others and clasped her hands together in front of herself.

"What?" Jonah asked, confused. Light moved to take up Cherub and Maribelle's hands, tugged them to their feet and over to stand side by side with her. When the others didn't look at all like this made more sense, she shook her head and motioned first to herself and an empty space at her side, then to Cherub and an empty space at her side, and finally to Maribelle and an empty space at her side.

"I think she's saying… they were all pairs," Fitz looked to Light, who gave a resounding nod.

"She's right..." Luigi blinked, surprised by this turn of events… many of them were surprised as well. Not Jack-Jack of course.

"That's what I was saying!" he muttered, his puppet hands thrown in the air.

"That can't just be coincidence," Sparks shook her head.

"It could have been us…" Maribelle blinked, looking to Light and Cherub.

"It could still be… What if they killed our partners, and now they're going to kill us, too?" Cherub felt Light clasp on to her hand, and she did not let go, only squeezed back.

"What's to say it's not one of you?" Jonah asked. "Trying to hide your crime in the… confusion." Light lunged at him, new tears springing from her eyes while Maribelle and Cherub held her back, reined her back in and comforted her; there was no way she would hurt Shadow, they knew that much.

"We were right here, and for crying out loud would you put a shirt on?" Maribelle frowned.

"We could be in danger," Cherub begged. "The three of us…" She paused, remembering something. "Maybe even Kissinger. I mean he was Serafina's partner before…" she looked back to him, in his wheelchair. "Poor guy's defenseless."

"Do not…" Kissinger's voice rose, startling after he'd been so quiet for most of the evening. They looked over at him. "… call me defenseless."

"But… you didn't…" Swift blinked.

"You and Serafina, you were a team," Sparks shook her head.

"Kissinger said mean things about Miss Serafina," Jack-Jack piped in. "Said she was a b…" Milly covered his mouth.

"The accident wasn't her fault, you're not on this again," Oswald shook his head.

"It was her fault," Kissinger's restraint was crumbling. "I knew it, and she knew it, and the fact you're denying it just proves how clueless you all are." Now the wagons were circling, the group closing in.

"It was you," Jonah accused. "You killed them," his anger flared.

"Poetic, isn't it?" Kissinger shrugged, revelling in his getting caught, while he could. "Now you three know how I feel. You were right, you were in danger, at least one of you," he looked to the trio still huddled together. "I was never going to kill her. I was going to kill you," he looked to Maribelle, who stood there in shock. "The other two, they were easy. 'Can you help me, my laces have come undone,'" he spoke with a begging voice, turning into a sneer. "Then they'd kneel, and then…" he dragged his finger across his throat. He paused, the others hanging to his every word, even his silence. "But then she came in, right when I was slicing the clown. I couldn't let her get away, and she wasn't going to kneel so… I made her," he motioned 'stabbing.'

It was taking superhuman amounts of self-control for a handful of them not to jump on him and give retribution. Maybe they'd seen enough death for one day, maybe they were more interested in having him live with his guilt, even if he wasn't showing one drop of it. Either way, Kissinger got to live. And with it came the end of the game. Lights flashed, and after a moment they were able to become themselves once again. There was a breath, smiles.

"Someone get that puppet away from me," Mercedes held up her finger, moving away.

"Why, he's cute," Brittany looked down to Jack-Jack, adjusting his hat.

"You can really project your voice like that?" Rachel asked, impressed.

"Oh, yeah, she can," Santana nodded with a smirk. When the others looked at her she tried to mask the brush off, turning to Sam. "So, your first game's done, good job," she nodded, coughing.

"Yeah, it was kind of cool," he smiled.

"Are you cold at all?" Quinn asked him. "Got a thing for fire right now," she indicated her Sparks costume with an eyebrow pop.

"Freezing," he tried not to sound too anxious.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Jack-Jack piped in, making kissing noises.

"What did I say?" Mercedes countered.

"Brittany, put Pinocchio away," Santana instructed. The blonde frowned, but she put the puppet on a chair and draped her hat over his face to hide it.

"He's just a puppet," she shrugged, defensive.

"So how often do you do this?" Sam asked.

"It depends, when the mood strikes," Kurt explained. "You'll know when we do, everyone always knows before I show up with the envelopes."

"Guess we should start cleaning up," Rachel looked around.

"I'll help," Finn nodded, eventually joined in by the others.

THE END


End file.
